


I’m here

by gracefulwriting



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mileven, More Fluff, Sweetness, overrated I know, they’re a little older, they’re in love if you don’t think so eat shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:59:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracefulwriting/pseuds/gracefulwriting
Summary: She’s alone. She’s crying. She needs him.--Or, Eleven has a breakdown after another reoccurring nightmare, and none other than Mike Wheeler is there to comfort her at one o’clock in the morning.--This is overrated I know but I love the idea to much to not do this:) Enjoy!





	I’m here

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! If you’re about to read this, this is my first fanfic and I had a lot of fun writing it. My page is gonna be mostly stranger things, but I might do some other stuff, I’m not sure yet. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this and don’t hesitate to comment if you liked it or even if you hated it:) ***ALL OF THIS IS STRICTLY FLUFF AND NONE OF MY FICS WILL LEAD TO ANYTHING MORE BECAUSE THEY ARE FUCKING KIDS OK***

  
“Do it, Eleven.”  
Brenner’s cold voice sent shivers down Eleven’s spine despite his distance. He stared expectantly at her, his eyes boring into the back of her head, and she could feel his presence become nearer.  
“Now.”

  
He was crouched behind her now, and though his command came out in a whisper, it was forceful and terrifying all the same.  
Eleven blinked a tear out of her eye that she didn’t even know was forming as she stared at the boy who was huddled in the corner. He was shirtless, left only in a pair of plaid navy boxers, and his pale skin was bruised in various places. His back was turned to her, and his head was tucked in between his knees as he trembled silently.

  
She had no idea who the boy was, but her hesitance in causing harm to another human, another kid like her, still remained.  
She slowly placed one bare foot in front of the other on the hard tile floor, and gradually moved closer to him.

  
Eleven stood before the boy’s unmoving form, and turned to look at Brenner for reassurance, earning a small nod from his crouched position on the floor. She sucked in a breath, and reached forward to touch the boy’s bony shoulder. At her gentle touch, he slightly flinched first, and then lifted his head from in between his knees to meet her gaze. Eleven’s heart stopped in her chest, and her blood ran cold.

  
His deep charcoal eyes immediately softened and became glazed with tears at the sight of her, and his lips parted slightly as he hoarsely mumbled, “El?”, with a furrowed brow.  
Eleven was still unable to move, as her hand remained on the shoulder of the boy who knew her name.

  
Sitting in front of her was the one who had taught her how to love, who protected her from things she couldn’t protect herself from, and who had repeatedly saved her.

  
_So why couldn’t she save him?_

  
Eleven released the breath she’d been holding the entire time, and managed to croak, “Mike?”, before feeling the pressure of Brenner’s hand on her shoulder. Mike pushed himself from the ground and clung to the wall, his lanky legs weak from malnutrition, and his shoulder now cold from the ghost of where Eleven’s hand had just touched.

  
“Eleven”, Brenner whispered harshly, reminding her of his orders in one word.  
Eleven was still in shock at Mike’s presence in the one place shed always hoped he’d never end up, in her one true hell, which was somewhere he never belonged, but Brenner’s words snapped her out of her trance. She frantically looked between Mike and Brenner, and she began to cry harder.  
“No”, she said finally, through her sobs. Her normally soft eyes glinted with firmness and determination, and Brenner knew that she was not to be persuaded.

  
Without uttering a word, Brenner motioned for two hefty guards who instantly barreled through the heavy metal doors. Eleven remained frozen, her gaze falling back upon Mike, who looked pained to watch the men lift her by her frail arms and carried her away, despite the wounds that covered his body.

  
“No, No! Mike!”, she screamed as the two men dragged her towards the door. Eleven struggled harder, not wanting to leave Mike alone to face what she knew Brenner had planned for him. She managed to free one of her arms, but it was quickly maintained in a tight grip once more, and Eleven was losing hope. She slowly gave up as they neared the exit, and could only watch in horror as a the form of a small gun was raised to Mike’s shivering head.

As she looked into his dark eyes for the last time, she could almost hear his goodbye, and she fell still.

With one twitch of Brenner’s finger, Mike’s body turned limp, and he fell into a bony heap on the floor as his crimson blood surrounded him, the gunshot still ringing through Eleven’s ears.

  
“Mike!”, she screamed repeatedly, as if he would wake up at the sound of his name. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and the combination of panic and calmness in Mike’s eyes as he awaited his death flashed vividly through her mind.

She didn’t even realize she was still screaming until her weak body collapsed on the familiar, cold floor of a confined room, and she kept screaming as her nightmare faded away into the real world.

Eleven awoke with a sharp gasp, as she instinctively rose in her bed to regain her breath. Her breathing pattern sputtered out in irregular rhythms, and she frantically looked around to take in her surroundings.

Eleven slightly relaxed when she recognized the warm, welcoming environment of the cabin she had called home for two years now.

  
She ran her hands down her cheeks, wiping away dried, and fresh tears that burned her eyes. Her chestnut curls were stuck to the back of her neck from the cold sweat that covered her body, and she was still shaking.

  
Eleven tried to even out her breathing, but the vivid dream still lingered her mind, and she longed for the embrace of Hopper or Mike-

  
...

  
_Mike_.

  
Her eyes filled with tears, and her heart had raced with the fear that the nightmare had been real. She reached a shaky hand to her bedside table and felt around in the dark for her old walkie talkie.

  
‘ _I’ll always answer’_

  
The memory of the day Mike had given her the supercom flooded her thoughts, and she could picture his bashful expression as he had shyly, yet surely, made a promise to her that he would never fail to keep.

  
She turned to the right channel, and clicked the small button on the side as she spoke,  
“Mike? Mike are you there?”.  
El’s voice was hoarse, and it flooded with worry and panic.   
It was nearly one o’clock in the morning, but Mike didn’t hesitate to reply,  
“El, is everything ok? I’m here, what’s wrong?”.

  
He found himself wide awake despite his lack of sleep that was slowly catching up to him. His parents had been fighting for years now, so the loud arguments and sounds of plates shattering below his room were nothing new, but it still kept him awake all the same.

  
“El?”, he asked after a minute of silence on her end, hoping that she was still there.

  
“I need you“, Eleven managed to croak before her voice was flooded with a choked sob.

  
That was all it took for Mike, and before he knew it, he was pedaling down the street on his bike in the cold November air, still wearing his flannel pajama pants and Star Wars T-shirt. He didn’t care about his parents, the frigid wind, Hopper, or that he left his damn window open at his shitty attempt to sneak out.  
Eleven needed him.  
Nothing else mattered.

Eleven dropped the walkie, and slid back under her covers as she stifled another cry into her pillow. She shook harder now, and even though the dream was over, the images of Brenner, and of Mike’s lifeless body still haunted her mind.

Her room seemed bigger and emptier, and with Hopper working, she had never felt more alone. She pulled the covers over her head like a child would to protect their self from a ‘monster’ under the bed. Though she was fifteen, anxiety still consumed her, and the demons of her past always haunted her.

Eleven had tried to calm herself at the thought of Mike being here soon, so he could hold her and reassure her. She tried to picture his crooked smile that was decorated with dimples, the freckles that dotted his cheeks, and his ebony curls that matched his eyes.

  
She hugged her knees to her chest as the bad thoughts replaced the good, as they always did.

  
The ten minute trip from Mike’s house to the cabin suddenly held the weight of what felt like an eternity to not only Eleven, but Mike too. As he pedaled with his untied, beat up converse, he pictured Eleven alone at a time she needed company most, and he pushed his legs harder. His heart was racing and aching, and his legs were burning from the constant increase in speed he was pedaling to make his rusty bike go _faster_ , so he could hold Eleven _sooner_.

  
Eleven remained in the same position under her covers, growing used to the hot tears that stung her cheeks and the unsteady breaths she drew in.

  
At last, the loneliness that surrounded Eleven dissolved at the sound of a gentle knock at the front door. She threw the covers off of her and ran to fling the door open.

Eleven took in the sight of Mike’s lanky, tall figure dressed in his pajamas and wild curls that stuck out on every side of his head. His dark eyes were glazed with tears and his brows furrowed in concern as soon as he saw the tears that had dried on her cheeks, her big brown eyes now bloodshot, and Hopper’s oversized ‘Hawkins Police’ sweatshirt that she wore was soaked at the neckline from her fresh tears.

  
The situation couldn’t withhold the small smile that formed on El’s lips, causing more tears to stream down her face.

She reached out her shaky hand, and took his to lead him into the warm cabin. Eleven slowly closed the door, her back still facing him even after the click of it being shut. When she turned around, Mike noticed fresh tears now rapidly rolling down her cheeks. She looked vulnerable, fragile, and small as she stared at Mike with her arms self-consciously crossed over her stomach, her lip trembling, and her big brown eyes pooling with fear.

He closed the distance in between them, taking two long strides and then wrapping his arms around her back tightly as she buried her face into his chest. It didn’t take long for her cries to escalate into loud, heart wrenching sobs that echoed through the cabin and made Mike wince.   
He hated seeing her like this.

  
How could someone so _fearless_ be so...

  
_Broken?_

  
Eleven balled up fistfuls of Mike’s T-shirt in her hands as she sobbed against his chest. Her ear was pressed against his heart, barely reaching it even though she was standing on her tiptoes, and she listened to the soft lull of his heartbeat. Mike tangled one hand into her untamable curls to cradle her head closer to his chest, and rested his chin on top. He stroked her back softly, all the while pulling her into a tighter embrace.

  
Eleven breathed in his scent, which was a mixture of fabric softener, soap, and pine. She wanted to remember the scent, and burn it into her memory so she could always feel as safe as she did right now.

  
After hearing that her sobs had calmed into quiet sniffles, Mike gently pulled her away from his chest and cupped her cheeks in his hands. Eleven leaned into his comforting touch, and lifted her gaze to meet his.  
“Are you ok?”, he asked softly, as if he said anything too loud she would break.  
She looked into his eyes, and a beat passed before she finally spoke,  
“Dream”.

  
It was all she could muster to say, as tears dared to sting the rims of her eyes once again, but Mike understood. He let his hands fall, but used one to grab Eleven’s hand and interlock their fingers together as he led her to her room.

  
Eleven never talked to Mike about her nightmares, not because she didn’t trust him, but because she didn’t need to. Her nightmares terrified her, and made her feel alone, but she never believed that they were real.

  
Mike laid down on her bed, on top of the covers, while Eleven snuggled beside him as she pulled the covers up to her chin. They faced each other, their foreheads touching, and their fingers still laced together. Mike’s thumb traced shapes on the back of her hand, and raised the other one to wipe another tear that was slowly falling down her cheek.

  
“D-don’t leave”, Eleven whispered hoarsely.  
Mike wrapped both arms around her and pulled her into him again as she drifted off to sleep.

  
Thirteen year old Mike would be shitting bricks at the thought of Hopper seeing him in Eleven’s bed the next morning, but fifteen year old Mike knew that Hopper understood why he snuck in some nights, and he grew used to finding the two tangled up together every couple of mornings (even though he couldn’t resist giving Mike a little taste of shit for it).

  
Mike gently kissed her forehead before closing his eyes and going to sleep as well, keeping his promise to stay with her.

  
He always did.

  
She was the promise that he would’ve sworn.


End file.
